Christmas Sweaters and Photography
by InkStrider
Summary: Maruko "Kiko" Mü is a famous artist and the Host Club's costume designer. She tries to keep her relationship with the hosts prefession, but she cant help falling in love with Mori's body.
1. Chapter 1

The paint brush was an extension of Maruko "Kiko" Mü. She marked the once blank canvas with thin strokes, forming the wispy strand of black hair and coal eyes that she had seen only once. She drew in the prominent lines of his shoulders next, his blue uniform molding perfectly to his arms and chest. Next to his polished shoe sat an angelic blonde haired boy with a pink bunny. Her eyes trailed back to the older, taller boy and remained there. Yes, the second one she painted was beautiful, but she was in love with the form of the black haired one. She had met him only once before and she was dying to find him again.

A loud ringing snapped her from her trance. She gingerly picked up the phone that sat at the foot of her easel and waited for the person on the other line to speak. She didn't feel like speaking, all will to talk had drained from her during the last month. There was nothing new for her to draw, nothing new for her to sew. Yes, she loved painting her favorite man, but she hadn't seen him in so long. He must have changed by now, grown even more magnificent.

"Mü."

Her mouth curved into a Chesire smile at the sound of Ootori Kyoya's voice. He was her favorite guy at the moment, a blessing. He always called with a new job for her. This was something that she needed.

She rolled up the sleeves of her oversized Christmas sweater so that the phone didn't slip out of her hands. "Yes, Ootori?" The feeling of excitement and anticipation settled in her stomach, making her restless. She blew her black bangs out of her eyes and glanced at the calendar. October 23rd. She knew what this was about.

"I have a new assignment for you."

"Lay it on me," she said, switching on the phone to speaker so that she could pain again. She picked up her rosewood brush and dragged it in a curved line along the canvas, the thick black paint forming the trunk of a Sakura tree. Thin strokes created delicate white and pink blossoms.

"This halloween, we want to go with a fantasy theme. Can you do then before the end of the week?"

Kiko pushed away from the painting and pulled her sketch book and a pencil out of her bag. "How many do you need? There are six of you, right?"

"Seven."

Kiko ran through the names of the hosts, twice, but came up with six both times. "Honey, Mori, Suoh, Hikaru, Kaoru, you..."

"And Haruhi."

"Who?" Kiko blew her bangs out of her eyes and tried to think back. Had she heard that name before? It didn't seem familiar and she never forgot a client.

"She's a new host."

Her lips twitches at that, but she didn't say anything. She could deal with a girl host as long as she got paid. She was saving up to remodel her home. Hopefully, she'd have enough by fall break. "I'll need to take measurements. And before you start, yes, I need to take my own. The magic only works if I do it my way,"

Kyoya sighed loudly into his phone. "Do as you like."

"What kind of fantasy were we thinking?" she started drawing an elegant elf with silvery hair, pointy ears, and golden eyes. She wanted to see it on someone tall, like Suoh. He'd make a good elf, she though reluctantly, even though he was her least favorite person in the world. How could someone be so cheerful all the time?

"Let your imagination run with it," he told her and hung up.

Kiko frowned at the phone and clicked it off. She quickly packed her stuff away and ran towards the door. Ouran Host Club, Kiko was coming.


	2. Chapter 2

Ouran High School had never impressed Kiko. She had gone to a public school and didn't get recognized until she started college, two years ago. Instead of going to a world renowned university, she took a year off to travel Europe for inspiration. She didn't regret not going to college for more than three months. If she stayed, she wouldn't be working for the Host Club. Rich bastards knew how to appreciate her art.

She never used the front door when entering the third music room. Instead, she snuck into the Black Magic club, waved hello to Nekozawa, and sat on the windowsill, sketch book in hand.

She spotted the twins right away, surrounded by a group of yellow clad girls. She sketched out their basic features and then thought for a few minutes. They could be faeries or sprites: devious, like little devils. She could airbrush large wings onto their backs and some sort of ivy design around their eyes and cheekbones. They'd look lovingly mischievous

Kyoya would be her wizard. She would spike up some of that gorgeous black hair, give him rust red contacts, and sew a cape that doubled as a trench coat. His wand would be black oak with small gears embedded into it. She'd buy him dusty Dr. Marten boots to match the trench coat. He'd be a modern and industrial wizard.

Honey would make a great prince because it was so unlikely, yet, she saw heroic potential within him. He'd have to be taller, she realized, and quickly sketched some leg prosthetics. He wouldn't be wearing armor. His clothing would be pure white and trimmed with gold. A battle scar will be drawn on his cheek. He would be fierce.

Mori's outfit...She was tempted to force him into a princess costume or maybe Sailor Moon. Then she'd get to see his long arms and strong legs. She chuckled and glanced out of the window. Below was a fountain, the water looking cool to the touch. She rolled down the collar of her turtle neck and continued. Did he have to be a mythical creature? Honey wasn't. Not every part of fantasy was about the supernatural. He could be a blacksmith. She would make a hammer out of foam and tailor a pair of overalls to go on top of ash smeared clothes. This would work, she decided.

The challenge was this new host, Haruhi. Maybe a snake-man hybrid or a phoenix. No, that wouldn't work. She went through a long list of what oils be considered manly creatures but her mind kept wandering back to the same one: mermaid. They were beautiful and innocent, like him, yet Sirens on the inside, luring young men to their death. She could give him slight extensions and fashion pants put of green fabric that held a nice shine to it. Subtle makeup would make those brown eyes stand out. Yes, he'd make a fine mermaid. Not that he even looked like a man. Honestly, if he wasn't wearing a boy's uniform, she would think him a girl.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Kiko jumped at the sound of Kyoya's voice. She had not seen or heard him come up behind her. He was a truly scary man, she had to admit. She wasn't sure how long she'd have this job before she suffered from a heart attack. Probably not long. Her health wasn't safe with Kyoya as her boss.

"A bit," she answered, trying to slow down her heart. She closed her eyes and imagined that she was back in her studio, far away from everyone else. A shrill cry broke her concentration. She glared at one of the girl's near Suoh. Even when he wasn't bothering her, it was someone near him. "At least I was until two seconds ago."

Kyoya's blank expression did not change. "Great. Have you finished the sketches?" Kiko handed him and sketch book and watched him intensely while he looked over her work. "Wizard, huh? I'll be looking forward to this, Maruko."

Kiko rolled her eyes. He was usually a villain in her work; he knew that just as well as she did. "I'm sure you will." She packed up her supplies and slung her bag over her shoulder. "I'd like to take measurements now. Of Haruhi and…maybe Mori? You know how much he grows in a short time…So…"

Kyoya shook his head and pointed to Mori. "He's all yours."

Kiko barely heard what he said. She was running towards him before Kyoya finished his sentence.


	3. Chapter 3

There were only a few words exchanged to explain the situation. Neither said anything as they headed to the empty room next to the Host Club. Kiko coiled her tape measure around he fingers, nervous and shy. She had run to him, but all of her enegey had been drained when he turned towards her. Her heart suddenly beat a thousand miles per hour and she wanted the slip into her brown sweater and hide. She had been waiting to see him, to see his body, to measure him...And that what she was about do, if she could get past her schoolgirl crush.

Her lips were pressed onto a thin line as she unpacked her tapes and notebooks. She flipped to the page that held his measurements from past years and turned back to him. She gulped and forced her voice not to shake.

"Stand against the wall, please."

She watched with hawk like eyes and he did what he was asked. She scrutinized the markings on the wall and frowned. He'd grown four inches since the first time. Hopefully the outfits she made before weren't too tight. She quickly write down his new height.

"Shirt off, please."

Kiko had to fight with herself to keep her voice steady, unwavering. Part of her wanted to just melt into a puddle on the floor. All of her senses were on fire and her hands itches to say 'screw it' and draw him instead of do what she needed. Why couldn't any of her regular models have a body as beautiful as his?

"Relax, please."

Mori breathed in and then let it out. "Like this," he asked, speaking what Kiko assumed to be the first time that afternoon. She wondered if he said more to than a few words to Honey. Most likely. She envied him the privilege to hear Mori's smooth voice more than once.

"Perfect," she answered, her lips curving into a warm smile. She whipped out the tape measure and slowly pulled it around the widest part of his torso, her fingers twitching whenever she came in contact with skin that was far too soft to be human. She wanted to leave her hands on him, to feel him, to-

Kiko shook her head to clear her thoughts and jotted down the size. She crouched down in front of him and hooked her fingers through his belt loops. "Do you mind?" she asked, sounding a million times calmer than she actually was. Her mind was abuzz with thoughts that should not be said out loud.

"No."

Taking a deep breath, she tugged down his pants just below the hem of his boxers. She forced herself to let go and reached for her measuring tape. She quickly measured his waist and pushed away, sliding easily on the frequently polished floor.

"Are we done?"

Kiko shook her head and pulled out a foot measure. "Take your shoes off." She waited patiently as he did. When he was done, she scooted forward and placed the metal measure under his foot. This was the last thing she had to do. And then he could leave…

"Mori."

"Yes?"

"You know that…" She took a deep breath. "That I…About you…"

"Kiko."

She was happy. He said her name. It's been so long since she heard it on his tongue. To sound was heavenly to her. It gave her courage to continue. "No, let me finish."

"Kiko, stop."

"I really like you. You know that. I've always-" She stood, wanting to stand face to face with him.

"Kiko, enough."

"-liked you. Since I first measured your body. And I love that body. And-"

"Maruko!"

She stopped talking. He had only called her by her full name once. That was when she was staring at him and accidently stabbed Honey with her needle. She thought he hated her until the next time she saw him. He apologized for yelling with a curt "sorry" and walked away.

"Mori, I'm…" What was she apologizing for? For trying to tell him her feelings? For trying to be honest to him? Why didn't he listen to her? Why could he let her talk to him?

He tugged on his shirt and shoes in record time. He cast a sad look towards her and exits the room without a word.

Kiko slumped against the white wall and hugged her knees. "Maruko," she muttered, a sob escaping her throat. She covered her mouth with her hands but tears leaked out, flowing over her fingers. She wiped the lipstick and eye shadow from her face and threw the tape measure across the floor. For once in her life, the urge to draw was not consuming her.


	4. Chapter 4

Kiko needed to draw. She needed to get up and get Haruhi's measurements. She couldn't just sit there and cry forever, all alone in this room. But, boy, did that sound good to her. She'd like that a lot. That didn't matter. She couldn't be lazy, not at a time like this. There was still so much more to do.

"Does the princess need a drink to calm her burning throat? Perhaps lemon and honey tea?"

A gasp escaped her throat, but it was not because she had not heard him come in and was surprised. She was shocked that he was actually here...in this room...where she was...alone. It was his voice that had her clutching the hem of her shorts. That voice was one that Kiko knew well, all too well. It was soft and filled with pity. Pity for who? It must have been for her. It was always for her. She closed her eyes and begged the voice to go away. She begged for it to be all in her imagination.

"Or a wet cloth for your face."

Oh, gods, it was not a dream. No matter how much she wanted it to be, it wasn't. If anything, it was a nightmare. She hadn't spoken to him directly since the first time they met and she hoped to keep it that way. The club was her only link to him and she'd sever that if it wasn't for Mori and the good pay.

An image of Mori flashed through her mind. He was talking to Honey and when he looked up at her, there was a look of disappointment in his eyes. Guilt peaked in her heart; guilt that she only felt when he wasn't around. That guilt wasn't all bad. It gave her a drive to paint when she was out of creative juice.

"Princesses shouldn't sulk. They'll ruin their pretty faces." She felt him kneel down next to her and stiffened. Sadness quickly died away to pure annoyance. "Maruko, take this."

She glanced up at him, biting her bottom lip to keep it from quivering. He was offering her a slightly damn, small, red cloth. She was tempted to slap his hand away from her, but they were too heavy to move. She wanted to wipe that grin off his face.

Seeing that she wasn't going to do anything, he sighed and pressed the cloth to her cheek. She begrudgingly took it from him and began cleaning herself. Gods, she must look like a raccoon.

"How does the tea sound, my princess."

"Horrid," she answered honestly. Tea wasn't something she was used to. Coffee on the other hand was her best friend. She didn't drink any of the decaf stuff. A street vender down the road from her studio sold the best cup of coffee with so much caffeine. She had a deep respect of him.

Kiko caught a smile in his blue eyes and averted her gaze. She curled her fingers around the make-up smeared cloth and frowned. "Thanks, but I don't need your help anymore. You can leave now."

There was a long silence that filled the air. She twirled her fingers, trying to focus on something other than the man next to her. If her legs wanted to cooperate with her, she'd have been out of there at the first sound of his cheerful voice.

"Was it Mori," he asked, tilting his head to the side so that his blonde hair fell over his eyes.

Any feeling of gratitude left her. She tossed the cloth at him and hurriedly stood, finally finding the energy. How dare he assume that Mori had hurt her! Although, he was right. Still, that didn't give him the right to say it!

"Wait." He caught her wrist in his hands before she could go far. She struggled, but his grip didn't loosen. "Why can't we talk, my fair lady?"

"We have nothing to talk about," she hissed, trying desperately to get away. She didn't want to talk. She needed to get back out there and measure Haruhi. Then she had to go home and get started on the costumes. And then she had to crawl into bed and avoiding thinking about what was just happening.

"We have a lot to talk about," he insisted. He didn't yell or raise his voice. His tone was soft and he was patient with her. But a sad smile had replaced his usual ever cheerful one. She had the sudden urge to place him on the window sill and sketch his facial expression. "Like the night when we all went to the-"

"Nothing to talk to you about," she spoke over him. "Nothing at all. Nothing about that night...or any night for that matter!" She tried once again to free herself, but he wouldn't let up.

"How can you say that?"

She could say it very easily because she had blocked it from her mind. She didn't want to remember it. She also didn't want to talk about it.

"So when you told me that you-"

"I hate you," she cried, trying to shake him off. "I don't want to talk."

"Don't do this," he pleaded. "Don't pretend."

Once again she wanted to set him up somewhere and capture him on canvas.

"No, you don't do this," she begged him. "Please, Suoh...Tamaki." When he didn't say anything, she raised her hand and was about to slap him when the door creaked open and Haruhi stepped in. Kiko let her hand dropped and Tamaki released her.

"Is this a bad time?" he asked. She was surprised at how pretty and girly he looked up close. Her cheeks were so rosy and eyelashes so long. Mermaid was the right choice for him.

"No," Tamaki said. "I was just leaving."

All the shyness returned to her in a rush. She clasped her hands behind her back and rocked on the balls of her feet, her eyes on the floor. She didn't even look up when he stood and walked past her.

"Daughter! Daddy is going to mis you while you're in hear! Don't take too long! Mommy! Tell Kiko-chan to hurry! After this, I'll treat you to some nice tuna!"

"Sempai, you're ridiculous. I can't change while you're here."

"I'll be back my daughter! Take care of her, Kiko!"

Kiko's face broke into a smile and her cheerful composure returned. "Haruhi, I'm Kiko. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Haruhi rubbed the back of his head nervously. "Is this going to hurt?"

Kiko picked up her tape measure and grinned. "We'll see about that."


	5. Chapter 5

Surprisingly, Kiko found herself warming up to Haruhi very easily. Maybe it was because of Haruhi's witty comments and nice smile. Or maybe it was because he was actually a she. Kiko relaxed tremendously among the female population. Men were a whole different story. She wasn't sure exactly how to interact with them.

"Kiko, I'm surprised they haven't tried to force you into a dress," Haruhi commented as she lifted her arms, giving the older girl access to her waist. "I thought they made everyone that worked for them look like a prince or princess."

"Kyoya knows that I'd quite the second they brought something frilly my way," Kiko told her. She wrapped the tape measure around Haruhi's hips and scribbled down the measurement. "Im too good at what I do for them to lose me."

"That makes sense." Haruhi nodded to herself and sighed. "I was wish they'd let me dress as I'd please. I'd wear what you wear. Something comfortable."

A slight frown touched Kiko's lips but was replaced with a smile in seconds. "To be honest, at one point I really wanted to wear…feminine clothes. I did, for a month, but they got in the way of my painting. I gave them to my cousin and never looked back. Sweaters and shorts are much easier to paint it, don't you think?"

"Yeah, you're right…Hey, Kiko, what happened earlier? Did that idiot prince make you cry?"

"N-no, of course not," she lied through her teeth. Half of her wanted to confide in Haruhi, but the other half screamed a warning. She didn't want a possible friend to hate or judge her. Besides, she could handle the pain. She had been for a long time.

Haruhi gently rested a hand on her shoulder. "Kiko, you can tell me anything."

Although she was taken aback by this sudden outburst of kindness, she didn't show it. Instead, she put on a bright smile and said "Haruhi, it's no big deal. The last time I met Suoh, we played a game of chess, which I am a master at. He beat me and brought that up earlier today. I'm a really sore loser. It's nothing, really. Just some competition."

Could she think of a worse lie? Kiko mentally hit herself . She didn't even play chess that well! If Haruhi ever wanted to see her skill, she'd be disappointed. She hoped that she had inherited her father's talent. Maybe she'd be able to scratch by. She prayed that Haruhi would bring up this subject ever again.

"Are you going to play him again?"

"As soon as I have time. I will win this time! I have been training!"

"I'll be cheering for you."

"That means a lot. Thank you." Kiko scrawled down the last few numbers on her chart and loaded her supplies into her bag. "Alright, we're done today. Chances are that you won't see me for another few months unless it's for a fitting." This was something she wasn't very much looking forward to. Maybe she'd visit Haruhi.

Haruhi nodded and dressed herself. "Please, feel free to come to me whenever you need to talk."

"I promise that I will." Something told her that she'd honor that promise.

"Goodbye, Kiko."

"Sayonara."

Kiko slipped out of the room without so much as a word to anyone else.


End file.
